


Build Me Up, Break Me Down

by mahons_ondine



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff, Greg is adorable, Humor, M/M, Mostly porn, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahons_ondine/pseuds/mahons_ondine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly enjoys Greg's arse.  Mycroft also enjoys Greg's arse.  They should bond about it.  And over it. Also with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Build Me Up, Break Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be working on getting back to my Inception fic. I haven't had much time for writing since I started my new job, however. I do have lots of time to listen to podcasts. I was listening to Three Patch Podcast's OT3 podcast, and this happened on the train on my way home. There will be more. It's mostly porn and silliness.  
> Thanks heaps to Skippy for the brit-pick; you are much better than taffy.

Greg Lestrade slumped against his panda and sighed. It had been a difficult case and he felt as though he hadn't seen his bedroom in weeks. Oh he'd slept well enough, but he hadn't bothered to go home in days.  He felt grimy in his tesco pants and tee.  He let his eyes slip closed and imagined the inside of his shower stall. For a second he couldn't think of anything better, but he rapidly rethought his position as he felt small lithe fingers slip into his hair and tug him further back, bending him over the hood of the car. 

His eyes drifted open and he stared up at his girlfriend. 

 

"Molly," he breathed.  "I do believe I've missed you even more than my own bed."

 

"That had better never even have been in question." 

 

Greg groaned and straightened up dropping a kiss on her cheek "yes, mistress," he grinned cheekily "best finish up here so that we can get going".

 

Molly wrapped her coat more tightly around her slim frame and watched Greg take charge of the scene, effortlessly corralling his officers, and consultants. Even Sherlock seemed to be listening to him, a feat Molly herself rarely managed. She felt a slight twinge at the thought, but the overwhelming feeling was that of relief. She and Greg were so well suited.  She'd reveled in the idea of controlling all the genius found in Sherlock, but found the power of owning strong, confident Greg was actually much headier. 

 

She followed Greg with her eyes, grinning as he pawned Sherlock and his hysterics off on Mycroft.  Mycroft reached out to shake his hand and seemed to linger just a beat too long.  Greg pulled his hand away after a moment, folding in on himself just a notch, and oh! Well that was certainly interesting.  She chuckled as the blush crept up Greg's neck. Very interesting indeed.  Greg said his farewells and turned back towards her, face still red, and seemingly unaware of the appreciate glance Mycroft directed at his arse until Sherlock's squawking reached a crescendo and pulled his attention back to his brother. 

 

Molly smiled ferally up at Greg as he approached her, and he blushed even harder.   She took his face in her hands and pulled him down for a kiss, whispering against his lips, “oh you _like_ him."

 

Greg blanched and stuttered, but she placed a finger against his lips, quieting him. 

 

“Your neck is the color of congealed blood, and you’re stuttering.  I’m neither stupid, nor blind.  You like him.  And I _don’t_ mind.  In fact I quite agree.  He’s rather fit, isn’t he?”

 

Flustered, he muttered, “Well, Mol, he just has those fantastic legs, and he’s terribly powerful.”

 

“Yes.  He is, isn’t he.  And he’s certainly an admirer of your charms as well. No, shush, I mean it. He could barely take his eyes off you. He practically had to chisel his eyes away from your arse.  He’s got fine taste, and I think you should go for it.  Actually, I insist you do.  You’re going to walk back over there and catch him before he leaves, and you’re going to invite him over to mine.  Tell him ‘Mistress was wondering if you’d like to help her ruin my gorgeous arse?’”  


“Mol! It’s Mycroft Holmes. I can’t say that to him! Besides… I don’t…”

 

“Unless the next words out of your mouth were going to be ‘I don’t actually want him,’ and I think we both know that’s not true, I suggest you swallow your pride; turn your arse around; and go ask him.  You don’t want to gain any more punishment by arguing with me further, do you?”

 

Greg groaned, adjusting his cock in his pants, already half-hard from the humiliation and the images swirling around in his head. He nodded once to Molly, gritted his teeth and turned and walked right over to Mycroft.  He reached out, grabbing Mycroft by the elbow and turning him around.  And then . . . he muttered his way through his script so quickly and quietly that it was clear Mycroft hadn’t actually caught a single word. 

 

“What was that, Gregory? I’m afraid I couldn’t understand you.”

 

Whimpering, Greg told his feet “I said . . . Mistress wanted to know if you’d like to come over to her’s and help her ruin my gorgeous arse.”

Greg could feel the flush across his cheeks, and hear the breath hissing out between his teeth.  For a moment, a moment that felt like an eternity, he waited for a reply.  Between the blood roaring in his ears, and his heavy breaths he didn’t hear Mycroft say his name. He only knew Mycroft’s response when Mycroft tilted his head up with a finger beneath his chin, and leered at him. 

 

“It would be my pleasure.  I’m sure it will be a glorious ruin.”

 

Greg thought he might faint.  


End file.
